


Dragon Heat: Love in the Oven

by Blueberry_32 (Horny_Unicorny)



Category: Monster Prom (Visual Novel)
Genre: Crack, Don't Try This At Home, F/M, Fan fic of a fan fic of a fan fic, Forbidden Love, Gen, Granting Sentience Through Cum, Magical dong, Multi, Other, Sex Dragons, So meta Liam approves, Starcrossed Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-15 17:39:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18503842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Horny_Unicorny/pseuds/Blueberry_32
Summary: In an unexpected twist of fate, the great hero of Draconia, Harold McDonghard, is betrothed to the Evil Queen Rosequeef! He knows peace hangs in the balance -- he must please the queen or his country will be ravaged by unspeakable evils! He must ravage her first... but it won't be that easy!





	Dragon Heat: Love in the Oven

The ship rocked back and forth as waves crashed against the sides, creaking and groaning as it made its turbulent voyage across the sea. Harold sat in his quarters -- the spacious and ornately decorated captain’s cabin -- feeling apprehensive. He reached for his mug of ale and took a sip. The smell was oddly musty, and it tasted like skunk secretions -- a kink of his but not something he felt was right for a mug of ale. He scratched at the scales on the back of his neck as he considered the responsibilities he thrust in his own lap. He hated responsibility. He would rather thrust other things in his lap. Like lady dragons. This voyage, he hoped, would not be his last. 

Marriage was not a commitment he'd ever foreseen himself making. He was an adventurer! A captain of his own ship! It was a lifestyle change that was already started to suffocate him. Maybe it was because he'd been below deck for so long, but he was beginning to feel paralyzed. It wasn't so much his betrothed that scared him -- just the idea of it all. Or so he kept telling himself. After volunteering himself for the wedding. He was sure he was drunk when he went through with it, but he would have had to have been perpetually drunk for a week to have met with the King of Draconia to tell him of the plan and then still to receive a response from the queen and continue through with it. What the hell had he been thinking? 

The fact that she was EVIL and had waged war against his home country for years didn't intimidate him. Her indescribable beauty, on the other hand... Well, sure, there was some pressure to impress. If he didn't, then it was a waste of time and the war would wage on. Not to mention what she might do to his manhood. It would ruin his reputation and he would need a new name. That was his name by birth! He would have to change his entire identity!

A window shattered behind him, startling him from his thoughts, and he leapt from his chair to draw his sword. He sighed, relaxing at the familiar face that slithered through the broken window from the sea. 

“Horace,” Harold exclaimed with a mixture of annoyance and surprise. The hydra didn't need a ship to cross the ocean. And he could stalk him all over the ocean as he pleased. It was a good thing they were friends. "I've had to replace that damned window ten times now." 

“I thought I would find you hiding in here,” Horace answered, soaking his words with judgment. 

Harold scoffed, “You’re the one who thought it would be a great idea to propose to Queen Rosequeef in order to save Draconia.”

“And I stand by that great idea," Horace replied, "unless... you won't be able to get it up. Is that why you're sailing around in circles?"

The situation really didn’t look good since he got his tail out of town the moment he fully sobered up. But it wasn’t what Horace thought it was. Harold looked at his lifelong friend, debating how to express what the source of his doubts really were. “You know of Rosequeef’s reputation, right? About how she is a dragoness whose sexual prowess rivals those of a succubi?”

“Oh.” A look of realization came over Horace’s face. "Do you think she'll sex you to death? It would be a good death." 

"Perhaps it would, but I'm not ready to die," Harold answered. 

“I did hear she once had an orgy with a badger, two dragons, and chimera,” Horace said thoughtfully, "and none of them were ever seen again. But I doubt it's because she drains them of their life force through their cocks. I think it's more likely they didn't please her, so she killed them." 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?" 

“You’ve had plenty of sex! Sure, she took on four at once, but none of them are heroes with flowing hair like yours.”

“I’m a little out of practice,” Harold muttered, sure he was ruining his image of him with that admission. They stared at each other for several uncomfortable seconds. He couldn't tell what Horace was thinking and his silence was pissing him off. "WELL?" 

“What? I thought you had more to say. If you want some practice before your wedding night, my holes are water tight and unavailable. Sorry.”

Harold rolled his eyes and poured Horace a bowl of ale. They spent the night discussing ways in which he could impress the queen. Sexually. They talked about setting the mood by lighting fires -- a lot of fires -- and they discussed their favorite positions -- like the Four Backed Antelope and the Siamese Cock Dance. However, none of it would be of any use if he was out of practice.

Harold awoke that next morning feeling refreshed and inspired to prepare his dick for the banging of its life. He got out of bed with a big stretch and a yawn, noticing the light shining through the hole that was once a tinted window. The sound of wood being sawn outside let him know that Horace was still around. He poked his head out and looked down to see Horace sleeping against the side of his ship.

“Horace!” Harold shouted. “Horace, wake up!” He struck the wall with his claws with each word, hoping that might jar his friend awake. 

“Give me coffee and two chickens,” Horace managed to grumble back at Harold.

It didn’t take but a minute before all of the left over chicken wings and a pot of imported bat coffee came pouring down for the sleepy serpent.

“Did you come up with a plan?” Horace said as he licked his lips.

“First things first, we need to head back to port,” Harold replied as he rubbed oil onto his muscular physique.

“Is that your sex oil? You know you can’t have sex with anyone else now that you’re promised!”

“I’ll figure it out when we get there,” Harold said with as much indignant fervor as he could muster and went up to the helm.

Calysto Bay was alive with the sounds of merchants and ships as the people went about their daily lives. Anything you could have wanted was obtainable there if you knew the right person or the right inn to walk into. This was where Harold knew he could get his Dragon Groove back at. Harold and Horace wandered the port as best as they could while sticking to the main streets Horace could fit down. Harold’s eyes locked on a line of working wenches waiting outside of the Salty Seaman. They looked like a delectable buffet of booty, but he knew it would be a disaster if he engaged in an all-out orgy without the queen present. No, he would need to find an alternate way to practice. Horace, on the other hand, had no qualms with picking up seven women to play with. 

Harold continued on his own, feeling a little betrayed at Horace's departure. He wasn't going to wait around outside looking lonely. As he walked down the cobbled street, the delicious smell of freshly baked pie stopped him in his tracks. He stood outside the window, staring wantonly at the pies as they cooled on the counter. He knew what Horace would say if he were there. He was his friend, his advisor, his confidant. He would tell him to fuck a pie. 

"You're a goddamn genius, Horace," Harold thought aloud, crediting his absent friend for the revelation. "Pies are warm and moist and we even refer to pussies as pies sometimes. It’s the perfect loophole!” 

"Excuse me?" the baker asked, standing up from where she knelt in front of an open oven. "Did you say you want to fuck my pie?" 

"Yes, ma'am! What flavor is it?" 

"Not another one," she mumbled under her breath. "It's a cherry cream pie. Just take it and go." 

Harold happily whisked his prize away back to the captain's cabin and lit some candles around the room to set the mood before reapplying his sex oil to his rippling muscles. 

The cherry cream pie sat on the edge of his bed, still warm and gooey, still so inviting. Harold undid his sash from around his waist and pushed his trousers down his hips. He stood there in all his sexy, naked, draconic glory, his every look and movement as seductive as he was renowned for. He imagined the pie before him was that of Rosequeef. His cock was unsheathed and erect. The pie was in a round tin with a circumference that would accept his impressive size. Planting his clawed hands on the bed, he slowly slid his cock into the hot pie. He closed his eyes as he thought to himself that he had missed out on the true potential of what pies could do. He continued to move slowly in and out of the pie when his concentration was broken by the sound of a moan. 

“Horace! You better not be peeking on me!” Harold’s head snapped toward the now covered window and noticed it was still covered. 

“Fuck me." 

Well, this was new. The voice came from in front of him. 

"Fuck me," the voice repeated with the unmistakable inflection of insatiable lust. 

Harold thrust faster and with longer strokes to draw more moans from the pie. This turn of events both turned him on and scared the fuck out of him. But he was never one to leave a partner unsatisfied. Even if it were a previously inanimate food item. Somehow, the longer he fucked it the less creepy it got and the more he felt a connection to the pie. It also felt less delicate and more like it was squeezing him back. Harold was too far gone to care anymore. 

“I’m cumming!” the pie cried out in ecstasy. 

With a groan and a burst of flame from his throat that nearly set the roof on fire, Harold released his equally hot cum into the pie. Spent, Harold laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling as thoughts ran through his head about what he’d just done and how it was possibly the best sex he’d ever had. How? How was that even possible? 

“Well, that was amazing,” the pie said with a satisfied tone. 

“Were you always able to talk, Creampie?” 

“No, not until that magnificent cock of yours fucked me into life,” Creampie replied. “One moment, I was just a pie, and the next, your dick was in me and I instantly understood sexual bliss.” If she could shrug, Creampie would have shrugged so hard. 

Harold spent the rest of the night filling Creampie in on the situation he got himself into... then, he had to explain to Horace why he couldn’t have any of the pie. Not that he’d let the Hydra eat her even if she wasn’t talking. There are just some things you don’t subject friends to. 

"You know what you should do?" Horace asked, resting his body against the side of the ship. "You should take Creampie into the queen's bedroom with you. I'll bet you she's never had a threeway with a pie." 

Harold considered the suggestion. Creampie had proven to be a good listener and a decent conversationalist in addition to a mind blowing orgasm giver. The stage was set for an epic sexual showdown. 

When Harold arrived on the shores of Rosequeef's queendom, he was met by soldiers and picked up in a royal carriage. Horace stayed with the ship, but Harold brought the pie with him. He wasn't sure how to tell them the pie wasn't meant to be eaten and didn't need to be tested for poison, but he would cross the bridge when he came to it. Trumpets blared in announcement of his arrival as he was carried across the moat into the evil castle of Queen Rosequeef. Harold looked out of the window to watch the ominous vultures flying circles overhead and wondered if she fed them seed or if she just kept fresh corpses lying around for them. He hoped he wouldn't be their meal in the morning.

The carriage came to a halt at the bottom of the steps of her castle where she stood at the top. Her scales were deep violet and indigo, her breasts were voluptuously voluminous and inviting, and her flowing red hair glowed like fire in the sunlight. Physically, she was everything a dragon could desire, but her tendency to have the mating habits of a praying mantis gave Harold pause. If he could just talk her out of invading other countries and holding annual executions of the plebs, maybe this marriage wouldn’t be so bad. 

Harold stepped out of the carriage and walked up the steps with Creampie held carefully in his claws. Each step felt like his last, but he marched on toward the expectant queen as she looked down her beak at him. “Greetings, Queen Rosequeef."

The evil queen looked him up and down, intrigued. She had heard tales of his prowess in bed, among other more boring tales -- adventures, heroics, altruistic deeds. He was a man of honor when he was not a man of debauchery. And he was the pride of her enemy. Soon he would be her pet. She did love to take from those she loathed, but she wasn't dead set on destroying him. She was more curious about him than anything else. "How was your voyage? My sentinels said it looked like you were having second thoughts," she said and led him inside. 

"Second, third, and fourth thoughts on how I could please you is all," Harold answered, hoping his charm would earn him enough favor that it would count for something if things went awry. 

"Is that so? Your reputation precedes you, Captain McDonghard," she answered with a sultry smile as she led him up the spiral staircase to her chambers. "Do you need fuel before we begin? Because I would hate for you to burn out early." 

"No. But I do wish to introduce you to someone... in private." 

"Is it an assassin?" she asked. She did love visits from assassins, though they seldom made it into the castle. When they did, they did not leave -- at least not in one piece. But that would certainly put a damper on this budding relationship. 

"Assassinations are more your cup of tea, respectfully," Harold replied. "No. This is someone I met recently that I think would make a great addition to the bedroom." 

"We haven't yet coupled and you wish to bring another into my bed? I will accept this plaything as a gift and not an insult," the queen decided and closed the door to her bed chamber behind him. 

Harold looked down at Creampie and knew he would have some convincing to do to make the queen see it... her? as more than just an object. He hoped the queen would not eat her. "Your majesty," he started. 

Queen Rosequeef traced a claw along his broad scaled shoulders and noticed the pie he'd been carrying. "My servants should have taken that from you," she said. "It hasn't been tampered with, has it?" 

Harold answered hesitantly as he held the pie a little less protectively so the queen could better inspect it. "This is a magical pie. Her name is Creampie." 

"H-hello," Creampie spoke shyly. "I'm a little nervous because I've never met a Queen before, and I have heard so much about you on the journey here." 

Rosequeef's eyes widened, and she snatched the pie from Harold's hands, holding it up to examine it from top to bottom. "Say something again!" 

Startled, Creampie answered, "S-something, your majesty!" 

Harold instinctively reached his hand out in concern when the queen snatched Creampie from him, but he remained where he stood, watching her closely. 

"Her voice," Rosequeef gasped in awe. "It's so darling. What have you heard about me, sweet thing?" 

Harold had seen the queen before and had even waged battles against her naval armies -- his formal introduction on her stoop was about what he expected it to be. She carried a regal countenance and a threatening posture, but as she held the pie gingerly in her hands, he saw an unexpected softness to her. 

Creampie answered softspokenly, "I heard that you are one of the most powerful women in all the kingdoms and that people obey and serve you loyally." She left out the part she was told about Rosequeef being fond of beheadings. "Harold also mentioned your unrivaled beauty and intellect." 

"Did he now?" Rosequeef smiled. "Would it hurt you if I licked you?"

"I'm certain it wouldn't," Creampie answered. 

As the queen's tongue slithered along the crust of the pie and tasted one of the whipped peaks of her cream, Harold tore off his clothes and slathered his signature sex oil over his muscles and scales. The pie let out a soft moan, and the queen smiled, "How did you come to be, Creampie? Were you baked by a witch?" She turned her head to admire Harold's naked body and formidable cock standing at attention as he laid across her bed seductively. 

"I was brought to life by Harold's magnificent cock, your majesty," Creampie answered. 

Rosequeef held the pie in one hand and unbuttoned her dress with the other so it fell to the floor. Harold McDonghard was far more than his reputation let on. If his cock was capable of giving life to inanimate objects, what would it mean for those that were already alive? His cock was her fountain of youth! And he was certainly not bad to look at. She also appreciated that he was thoughtful -- and honest. He could have kept Creampie to himself. But he volunteered himself into her service and gave her this meaningful gift. It was, quite possibly, the only gift that couldn't be used as a weapon that she had ever truly liked. She wanted to protect this pie. 

Harold chuckled nervously, seeing how Rosequeef looked at him now with hunger in her eyes. "My queen," he started. 

"You've pleased me," she interrupted and set the pie on the bed. "Now please me some more."

Harold McDonghard engaged in the most epic, magical threesome he'd ever had. Harold licked Rosequeef while Rosequeef licked Creampie. He fucked Creampie while standing on the bed, and Rosequeef introduced his butt to the Dragon Finger Surprise while she performed a Snaketongue Swirl on his shaft. Harold mounted Rosequeef from behind and showed her the Double Dipper while Rosequeef gave Creampie a Fleshpillow Kavorkian Special. They copulated in the air, roaring with the flapping of wings as Rosequeef demanded satisfaction in every orifice. Kinks were unlocked with the chafing of scales, the sweet scent of cherries and bodily fluids, and the entanglement of limbs and crust. Orgasms that produced lights only ever replicated in the great north were had, and by the end, Harold was sure the combined efforts of he and Creampie guaranteed peace for more than a thousand years.

And for once, Harold McDonghard was no longer afraid of commitment. What if... his cock could turn the evil queen good?

**Author's Note:**

> Everybody at Spooky High loves Dragon Heat. Who doesn't fantasize about being boned by Harold McDonghard!? I know Godiva Galentina x Harold McDonghard is the popular OTP, but I felt inspired after putting on this year's play. I'm sharing my fic on AO3 at Polly's urging. Maybe more to come! I know Scott had some interesting ideas to play around with! And I'd love to hear Zoe's ideas! Let me know what you think! XOXO Vicky


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